


Gas Station

by i_just_knew1013



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_just_knew1013/pseuds/i_just_knew1013





	Gas Station

The gas station was the only dim light on the dark highway that night in Arizona. Temperatures were still in the lower 90s. You hear the gravel crunch under the tires as you pull in to the station and cut the engine off. You sit in the car for a few moments. The windows are down and the air is thick with sticky heat but there is a very faint breeze; the kind that picks up the tendrils of hair at the base of your neck. There is something about the smell of gasoline that you’ve always been drawn to; you take deeper breaths when you smell it, even though you know it isn’t good for you. It’s like you want to capture the scent and make a memory, or help you recall one of those road trips that your parents took you on when you were still a family, driving at night to avoid the traffic and escape the heat. Above you, one of the light bulbs flickers and makes a buzzing sound, the sound only fluorescent bulbs can make. Lightning bugs start slowly blinking past your windshield, like tiny traffic signals in the night. You can hear your partner softly snoring in the seat next to you, the faint smell of her perfume wafting toward you when she adjusts her head for a more comfortable position. Sweat gathers on your upper lip and you lick it off.  
In the distance you hear the cicadas warming up their voices, their performance 17 years in the making. Cicadas, or Magicicadas, only live 5 or 6 weeks above ground. You read that somewhere. There’s something poetic about that. All those years trapped underground, emerging for only a few weeks in search of a mate to reproduce with before fading away. You chuckle at the thought, feeling like maybe you can relate a little to the living underground part. The breeze blows through the open windows again and your partner shifts in her seat with a deep sigh. Her eyes flutter open and she gives you a soft, sleepy smile. 

“Hey. Want me to drive for a while?”

“No, I’m ok. Just going to fill up the tank and then we can hit the road again. Still about 200 miles before we get to the motel.”

“Ok.” She smiles again and you think your heart might burst from that smile. “I’m going to run inside and get us some coffee. Be right back.” And with that she’s slipped her shoes on and exited the car. The spell of the night has been broken and you get out of the car to start pumping gas. You wonder if things will ever move forward with the two of you, which one of you will break through the wall and take a step forward. A cicada descends and lands in front of you, on top of the car. It buzzes a few times, then flies away. Ok, you think to yourself, message received. Your partner returns with two coffees, gummy bears for her, and a fresh bag of seeds for you. She stops to look at you with that one quizzical brow arched. “Mulder, what is it? Are you sure you’re ok to drive?” Again, you think how similar you and the cicada might be. Time is of the essence. 

“Scully, have I ever told you about the life cycle of the Magicicadas?”


End file.
